


Smoke and Caramel

by MegGonagall



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Classroom Sex, Community: hermione_smut, Detention, F/M, Fluff and Smut, HG/SS, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Oral Sex, Severus Snape Lives, Smut, Teacher-Student Relationship, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 03:21:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13627518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MegGonagall/pseuds/MegGonagall
Summary: Instead of hearing his words, she was more attuned to the smooth timber of his baritone voice. It was like smoke and caramel, curling its way around her, caressing her body and filling her with a simmering heat.





	Smoke and Caramel

**Author's Note:**

> I’m currently suffering a bit of writers block with my two other Hermione/Severus WIPs. So I whipped up something fun while trying to work through the block. Smut is usually not what I write, so I’m sorry if it’s crap. I don’t even know what happened here. It just... happened lol. 
> 
> So here is one of many, many Hermione’s “8th year”, detention, smutty AU’s. I hope you enjoy it. :)

Hermione’s quill rested between her lips as she found herself trying to remain focused on Professor Snape’s lesson for the day. Instead of hearing his words, she was more attuned to the smooth timber of his baritone voice. It was like smoke and caramel, curling its way around her, caressing her body and filling her with a simmering heat. For just over two years — the first time it happened, she had been seventeen years old, her body responded sinfully to her Potions Professor’s voice. 

Many nights as she laid in her bed, curtains drawn and a Silencing Charm placed around her, she would run her hands all over her body as she imagined Snape’s voice telling her exactly where to go next. It was the thought of that voice that would cause her to become completely undone each time. 

As she sat pressing her thighs together, trying to stifle the growing need that was forming inside her, Professor Snape spoke sharply. 

“Miss Granger?” he hissed, looming over her and glaring down. Ginny not-so-subtly elbowed her in the ribs. 

“That is the third time I have attempted to gain your attention, Miss Granger. Ten points from Gryffindor, and detention this evening.” he snapped. 

Hermione’s cheeks went pink as she slouched down in her seat. 

“Yes, sir.” 

After dinner that evening Hermione sat in the common room trying to read, and kill time before her detention. Two of her current housemates were seated in the corner playing a game of Wizard’s Chess, occasionally calling over to her exclaiming their anger at Snape for once again targeting one of their own. 

The words on the page in front of her blurred as a knot formed in her stomach at the thought of being alone with Snape for the duration of her evening. No one knew of her desire for the miserable man, and if they did, they would have been disgusted. Gryffindors hated Professor Snape, plain and simple, they most certainly didn't entertain inappropriate fantasies of him as Hermione so often did. 

With fifteen minutes to go before her detention, Hermione gently closed her book and stood up from her seat. She glumly bade Ginny farewell, who smiled sadly at Hermione, and promised to wait up for her. 

She walked slowly through the corridors watching the silver moonlight filter in through the windows, casting an eerie glow around her. Her nerves were at full peak thinking of the evening before her, so she stopped for a moment to take a deep breath and collect herself. Hermione thought back to the night of the Final Battle. 

_ooo_

_Before finally collapsing from exhaustion, into her four-poster bed, she’d felt compelled to go back to the Shrieking Shack. It bothered her that Snape’s body had been left alone there, while the others who had fallen were all set to rest in the castle, before being collected by their loved ones._

_She entered that shack completely prepared to find the corpse of her former professor. But when she reached him, on some strange impulse, Hermione took his wrist into her hands, and a small gasp of surprise left her lips when she felt a dull pulse feebly pumping beneath his ghost white skin._

_Her grip tightened around his arm as a panicked urgency coursed through her. There had still been a chance to save him, she thought._

_Immediately she Disapparated from the Shack, and brought him to St. Mungo’s, where he remained for nearly a month, before he was recovered enough to be released home._

_Unbeknownst to him, she had gone back daily while he was there to check on his progress. She made the staff there swear not to tell him who had brought him there. Hermione had not wanted the man to feel as if he were indebted to anyone else ever again, for the rest of his life. He deserved to finally have been freed._

_ooo_

To that very day she had never told anyone it was her who had saved his life. She had a feeling that Professor McGonagall knew, however, but the woman never voiced her suspicions to Hermione. 

Far too soon she arrived at the doorway of the Potions classroom. She looked in before she entered, and her stomach tightened as she watched Snape sitting at his desk, hunched over grading papers. When he looked up and saw her standing there, Hermione felt a jolt of nerves run through her, before settling uncomfortably at her core. 

“Stop dawdling, Miss Granger, and enter,” he said flatly. 

Even when scolding her, that voice sent an electric rush through her; she nodded and stepped forward into the classroom. 

“Sorry, sir,” she mumbled, then tripped over her robes, catching herself quickly on the edge of one of the back desks. 

Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment when she heard him snort at her clumsiness. 

“Do watch where you’re going, Miss Granger,” he said as he rolled his eyes, then waved his wand through the air, shutting the door behind her. 

She had to get ahold of herself, she admonished herself while she walked up to stand before him. Unable to make eye contact, Hermione kept her focus on her black buckled shoes, and awaited her instructions for her detention. 

Her heart pounded as she heard the sound of his chair scraping against the stone floor, and his footsteps approaching her. He swiftly walked passed, causing her to shiver when feeling his robes lightly graze her forearm, and when she took in his mint and pipe smoke scent as he went by. The dozens of times she imagined herself enveloped in those very robes came unbidden into her mind. She shifted uncomfortably as she stood, trying not to let herself get lost in those fantasies in his presence. 

Snape cleared his throat loudly from behind her, and she heard him pull out a stool at one of the desks. 

“You will be writing lines,” he said.

Hermione slowly turned around, still keeping her eyes cast towards the ground. 

“Yes, sir,” she whispered and made her way towards the desk. 

She expected him to move as she sat down, but he did not. He remained standing next to her, much closer than he had ever done while she was in class. She could feel the warmth from his body on her right side. 

Picking up the quill he had laid out for her with a shaky hand, she bit her lip and chanced a look up at him. She didn’t know what it was about him; he wasn’t what would have been considered traditionally handsome, but there was just _something_ about the man that caused a desire inside of her like nothing she’d ever felt before. 

As his dark eyes bore into hers, she pressed her legs tightly together, and shifted in her seat. That yearning she felt for him was at an alarming height, which only intensified when he raised an eyebrow at her. 

“Problem, Miss Granger?” he drawled. He was so close that she could feel his breath on the nape of her neck. 

Hermione shook her head. “No —“ her voice was hoarse; she cleared her throat. “No, Professor.”  
The corner of his mouth ticked upwards; her breath caught in her throat. 

“Good, now,” he began. “Your lines for this evening will be: _I must not entertain inappropriate fantasies of my professor during class_ ,” he told her in a low voice, just above a whisper, and inched a hair closer. 

Hermione’s lips parted as she took in a small surprised breath. She felt a shameful heat spread from the crown of her head, all throughout her body. She was mortified. 

Her body went rigid; she remained facing forward. 

_He knew…_

“Sir?” she exhaled, sounding quite out of breath. 

She was frozen, rooted to the spot, and her breathing became shallow as she felt him lean in closer. 

“When it had come to my attention that you had been… _distracted_ , during your lessons.” She felt his breath on her ear, causing chills to travel down her spine. “I had taken the liberty to see what had been holding your attention.” His deep voice reverberated through her body, causing her to ache with need. 

“I’m so sorry, Professor. I — I shouldn’t have… it’s entirely inappropriate of me to —“ 

When Snape moved her hair from her neck, and pressed himself against her side, she became rendered speechless. This couldn’t have been happening, she thought. Surely she was in her bed having the most vivid fantasy she’d ever had.

“I must admit, you have quite the imagination,” he purred wickedly, before leaning in and trailing his tongue along the curve of her neck. 

“It’s come in useful in the past,” she bravely said, then instinctively leaned her head to the side, allowing him further access. A soft moan escaped her. She felt the physical reaction of her arousal pool between her legs, when his teeth grazed across her skin. 

When he pulled away from her, Hermione was left panting; anticipating more. 

“It’s this what you wanted, Miss Granger?” he asked in a dark voice. She nodded. It was. 

So many nights she had laid alone with this scenario playing out behind closed drapes and tightly shut eyes, and now that it was actually happening, she could not quite believe it. 

Even though she was certainly of age, the situation felt dangerous, scandalous, and down right wrong. But it was those very feelings that made it so appealing to her. She’d spent her entire life playing by the rules, and striving to be as perfect as one could potentially become. It was time for her to let her hair down, so to speak. 

“Stand up,” Snape ordered as he backed away. 

Hermione eagerly obeyed, and hopped down from her stool. For the second time that evening, Hermione looked up into Snape’s eyes, and her breathing stopped when she saw they were lit with a burning fire she had never seen in them before. The way he looked at her was almost primal. She felt her face flush in response. 

He stood about two paces in front of her. Curtains of black hair framed his pale face, as he stood with his long index finger placed along his lips; his eyes travelled down her small frame. 

“There is still your punishment we need to address,” he said in his smooth caramel and smoke voice, with a devious flash in his eyes. 

Her heart was pounding so ferociously, it was a wonder you could not see it through her jumper. 

“Yes, Sir,” she answered as loudly as she could manage. Nerves mixed with excitement seemed to have strangled her vocal chords. 

Snape pointed at the desk she stood next to, with a slight curve to his lips. 

“Lean across the desk. Legs spread apart,” he told her. 

Hermione blinked rapidly for a moment. What on earth was he planning to do to her, she wondered? Regardless, she nodded and turned around to do as he said. 

She stretched the upper portion of her body across the desk, and opened her legs as far as she could have, without supporting all of her weight on her torso. 

It was silent for a heartbeat. Hermione waited with her head resting on her right forearm. She had no idea what was coming, but when she heard his footsteps approach from behind her, she found herself unable to care. 

Suddenly she felt a rush of cold air on the back of her legs, when he took the hem of her skirt and lifted it, exposing her backside to him. The throbbing need continued to crescendo, and only became more unbearable when she felt his calloused hands caress the back of her thighs. 

Hermione bit her bottom lip and pushed herself into his touch, trying to guide him up further, to where her need was the strongest. 

She heard him chuckle as he removed his hands from her. A small pout formed on her face in response. 

“Not quite yet,” he told her, with an undercurrent of humor in his voice. She huffed impatiently. “As I’ve said, there is still the nature of your punishment to be addressed.” 

Hermione’s response was lost in a yelp of surprise, as Snape’s hand came down with an audible crack on her arse. 

It was the first time anyone had ever done that to her. The only time she’d ever been intimate with anyone before was with Viktor, but he had been more… _straightforward_ she supposed was the best word for it, in their lovemaking. 

Snape’s hand came down a second time, yet this time he moved to the opposite cheek. Again she let out a startled cry. 

When he did it again for the third time, she found that it didn’t _hurt_ exactly. There was an obvious sting left over, but she couldn’t say that she didn’t like it. For some reason that caused her to feel embarrassed. Surely she shouldn’t have been enjoying something that degrading, should she? 

The fourth time he hit her right in the middle, where the tips of his fingers landed just above where she was desperately attempting to guide him to when his hands were on her thighs. She let out a frustrated sigh, and heard him quietly laugh once again. 

Without warning, Snape grasped her by the hips, and spun her around to face him. He pulled her close against him, where she felt his erection pressing just below her navel. Before she could utter a word, he took her face between his hands, and crashed his lips against hers. 

Hermione reached up and put her arms around his neck, where she twisted his hair in her hands, pulling hard in a fit of passion. Her mouth opened instinctively, as their tongues met, and teeth clashed against each other’s. 

Snape growled as he bit her lip, and placed his hands beneath her bottom to lift her up onto the desk. Immediately she wrapped her legs around his thin body, and rocked her hips into him, trying to gain some friction to satisfy the overwhelming desire she had in that moment. 

Still not breaking their kiss, she felt his hands again at her thighs, yet this time they moved upwards. He hooked two fingers beneath her underwear and tugged roughly. Hermione lifted herself a bit allowing him to pull them off completely. 

Once they were discarded on the floor, he pushed her knees apart, spreading her legs wide open. They broke apart from one another, and both were breathing so heavily, one would have thought they had just run a marathon. 

Again he brought his hand between her legs, and when one single finger began slowly circling her clit, she threw her head back and closed her eyes. She let out a small moan of contentment as he continued torturously circling as lightly as he could manage. 

Instead of stifling that need inside of her, the rhythm at which he teased her only caused it to intensify. She tried moving her hips to quicken the pace, but he used his other hand to keep her in place. 

“It’s almost maddening, isn’t it,” he whispered into her ear. 

Gradually he gained a bit of speed, and applied more pressure. Hermione felt her much needed release building little by little. She arched her back and at one point whimpered a feeble, “please?” 

Finally he was working at an intensely pleasurable rate. She was so close; she was teetering at the edge. Her body started to shake, and she felt herself starting to quiver, when cruelly he slowed, and returned to the light teasing circles he’d started with. 

Hermione’s eyes snapped opened and a borderline feral growl came from her throat. 

“Why did you stop?” she demanded. 

The corner of Snape’s mouth ticked upwards. 

“You’re not to come yet, Miss Granger,” he told her, while once again gaining speed and pressure. 

Hermione’s breathing sped up. “Wh — why not?” she huffed, in attempt to sound accusatory, but she failed miserably. 

Snape leaned forward and lightly bit her ear before whispering, “It’s part of your punishment.” 

For the second time Hermione’s body began to shake, as she came dangerously close to a climax she so horribly needed. Her eyes scrunched shut as her body climbed higher, she was unable to keep from moaning aloud. 

And, also for the second time, just as she was about to find release, Snape stopped. 

This time, she pulled away and shouted angrily, “Dammit, Snape!” With a slap to his arm. 

If only her wand had been within reach, she was quite positive that she would have hexed his bollocks off. 

With a deep laugh, Snape hooked his arms underneath her knees, and pulled her to the edge of the desk. 

“Patience,” he admonished, yet there was a lightness in his tone she’d never heard from him before. 

Hermione’s eyes narrowed as she glared at him. To her surprise his expression softened, and he raised his hand to cup her cheek, before bringing his face closer to give her a gentle kiss. There was something almost tender in the gesture, which had been a complete turnaround from the wild passion they had fallen into just before. 

Snape’s hands gripped the bottom of her jumper and began to tug. Hermione, knowing what he was going for, lifted her arms to allow him to remove it. Once it was over her head, he tossed it to land near her discarded underwear, and took a step back to admire her in just her white lace bra and skirt. 

She was overly aware of the ugly ragged mark that ran from her shoulder, and across her chest, from the curse she had received from Dolohov in the Department of Mysteries. Hermione didn’t miss the way his eyes widened subtly when he saw it. He was the first person, besides the Madam Pomfrey, who had seen it. 

She made a move to cover it with her arm. 

Severus pulled it away and shook his head at her.

“You’re beautiful,” he told her firmly. Hermione felt her entire body flush. 

With a sudden boldness, Hermione beckoned him forward with a twitch of her index finger. Snape complied, and when he was before her, she reached up with shaky hands to begin undoing the buttons of his black cloak. 

She fumbled slightly, and it took two tries to finally undo the last button, but when the cloak pooled onto the floor with her belongings, she was surprised by what she saw, that was normally hidden beneath. 

His eyes watched her anxiously for a reaction, as she ran her hands down his arms, which unexpectedly felt toned, and not as bony as she had expected. He _was_ a thin man, but not overtly so. There was some definition to his body that suggested he must have had some routine in order to remain in decent shape. 

When she went to begin undoing the buttons of his black shirt, he stopped her by curling his hand around hers. She looked up with a warm smile, as she saw the hint of self consciousness in his eyes.

She almost laughed at the change in demeanor. From the domineering man he’d just portrayed himself to be, once she removed the protection of his robes, he had appeared to become quite vulnerable. Perhaps it was why he wore them, she thought. As a shield. Something to hide _him_ from the world. 

Hermione wiggled her hands in an attempt to remove them from her grip. “Please?” she asked in a gentle tone, as she tried to convey with her eyes that he could trust her. 

Reluctantly, she could tell, he removed his hands from hers and gave a single nod. 

Hermione began at the top button, just below his Adam’s apple, and slowly unfastened it. She bit back her gasp of shock when she saw the jagged pink scars from Nagini’s bites slashed across his throat. She trailed a finger along one, and realized how dangerously close the snake had come to hitting his jugular vein. He had been mere millimeters from certain death. 

For reasons unbeknownst to her, she felt compelled to lean forward, and softly placed her lips at his scars. When she did so, she heard his sudden intake of breath. 

Silently she pulled back, fighting back a tear, and started to work on the rest of his buttons. When she reached his chest, which was scattered with even more scars; some white and long since faded, and others that were still almost reddish which she could tell he must have received towards the end of the war, she felt a terrible sadness for the man. 

“Oh, Professor,” she whispered with her hand splayed on his chest. 

He brought his head down so that their foreheads were touching, his lips just barely grazed her own.

”It’s nothing,” he said. “And I think Severus will do.” She felt his lips turn up in a smile before they pressed against hers. 

The kiss started gently, but soon their lips began working feverishly together, and the rapid heat they had shared before made a reappearance. Scars and pain began to become forgotten as the two lost themselves in one another. 

Severus reached behind, and in one fluid movement unclasped her bra. Hermione squirmed out of it, and the moment it had been removed he cupped her breast in his hand where he trailed his thumb across her nipple. Hermione sighed into his mouth as she felt the reaction to that movement travel to her center. 

When he stood back away from her, he shrugged out of his shirt, and stood before her bare chested in just his trousers. Dark hair peppered his chest, and a small trail of it led from the bottom of his navel, down. His skin was alabaster, almost translucent in the dark room, which only made the scars on his body that much more prevalent, but she tried to push the sadness she felt at the sight of them away for the time being. 

Severus pushed her knees apart once again, and lowered himself onto his knees in front of her. 

“Now, where was I?” he asked with a half-smirk on his face. 

Hermione looked down and thought she had never seen a more beautiful sight than Severus Snape placed between her legs. All of the nervousness and uncertainty she’d felt earlier in the evening had entirely disappeared, and she couldn’t help but to think that this had just felt _right_. Their ages be damned, she was meant to be with this man. 

With one last heated look at Hermione, Severus inched closer, placing his hands on her hips to brace himself, and leaned forward. Her pulse quickened as she watched, and when his tongue touched her, her eyes immediately closed. 

He started slowly, with languid strokes, drinking in every inch of her. She heard him hum softly just before the tip of his tongue began flicking her most sensitive area. The sensation was intense, just bordering on that level between pure bliss and nearly painful. She gripped his shoulders and dug her nails into his skin as he continued his relentless pace. And when he added to the madness, by inserting two of his fingers inside of her, Hermione shouted out incoherently. 

Severus curled his fingers as he pumped them inside her. He was in the perfect position to hit the exact spot to send her crashing over the edge. As she felt her orgasm building, she prayed that this time he wouldn’t stop. She didn’t know if she could have handled him brining her so close, only to not allow her to finish once again. 

Hermione’s legs started shaking, and she jerked forward when his teeth gently grazed her clit. “Please, Severus!” she cried out, as she felt herself beginning to contract around his fingers.

He must have felt it as well. She assumed so when he pushed deeper into her, and stiffened his tongue to increase the pressure. 

Hermione’s back arched, her eyes scrunched closed, as she begged, “Don’t stop! _Please_ don’t stop!” 

At long last, blessedly, Hermione reached her climax. Her entire body quivered. Severus removed his mouth from her, yet continued to fuck her with his hand. 

“Come, Hermione,” he ordered, in his deep baritone. The sound of his voice _finally_ sent her over. 

Gradually he slowed, while Hermione shook with the aftershocks of her orgasm. She fell back onto the desk with her chest heaving as she panted.

Severus stood and reached forward to tuck his arm underneath her back, where he pulled her up into a sitting position. He twisted his hand in her hair, and kissed her roughly. Hermione tasted her arousal mixed with the mint and tobacco flavor that was uniquely his. 

“We’re far from finished” he told her when he pulled away. 

Yes, Hermione was spent after that, but she was nowhere near satisfied. There wasn’t a part of her that wanted to argue with that statement. 

“Yes, Sir” she responded with a smirk. 

Severus raised an eyebrow at her, then grasped her forearm to pull her down from the desk. When she steadied herself, Severus playfully slapped her again on her behind. 

“That’s enough of your cheek,” he said as she laughed. 

“Sorry, _Professor_ ,” she giggled then squeaked in shock when he grabbed her around the waist and lifted her up into a fireman's carry over his shoulder. 

When he started walking, Hermione wiggled herself trying to break from his hold. 

“Where are we going?” she asked. 

He didn’t respond, save for a snort. A few seconds later he set her down in front of his own desk, and with a slash of his wand, sent all of the papers and other items on to the floor. 

“I’m going to take you on my desk, Hermione. So every time you look at it, you will think of what happened tonight,” he said in a voice like sandpaper. 

She would never be able to concentrate in his lessons again, she worried. Thankfully, however, there was only a fortnight left until her NEWTs, so she wouldn’t have suffered too long. 

Severus reached down and undid the button of his trousers, and pulled them down along with his pants. Hermione’s nerves returned when she saw his erection, and a part of her wondered how on earth that would have fit inside of her. 

She only had experience with one other lover, and Viktor certainly hadn’t been small, by any means. But the thickness of Severus was almost unnerving. 

Tentatively she stepped forward, and looked into his eyes silently asking for permission to touch it. 

He gave a subtle nod, and Hermione slowly reached and wrapped her hand around him. He let out a low hiss at the contact, and when she circled her thumb around the tip, he hummed in contentment. She felt a small bead of moisture at the head, and used that to ease the friction when she began to stroke him. 

Wanting to reciprocate what he had just done to her, Hermione knelt down in front of him. 

“Hermione,” he said gently. “You don’t have to—“ 

She licked her lip as she looked up at him. “I want to,” she cut him off. 

It wasn’t a lie, or just something she said to make him feel better. Hermione truly did _want_ to. She wanted to taste him, and to see what it would be like to be in control of him. 

Before he could argue, Hermione took her tongue and gingerly licked from under the tip then around the head. She felt it twitch in her hand, and a sense of confidence coursed through her. 

After a few more tentative licks, Hermione shielded her teeth behind her lips, and took him entirely into her mouth. Due to the size, and the unfamiliar feel of it all, she had to consciously hold back a gag at first. But after several times pulling him in, she’d become accustomed to the sensation. 

Hermione firmly gripped around his base, and used her hand to trail along after her mouth. An overwhelming sense of power coursed through her, as she heard him moan and sigh her name. Severus Snape was a man who carefully guarded his emotions, spending his public life behind a cold and indifferent sneer. But to see and _feel_ him lose control of that persona was extremely empowering. 

She’d begun to feel him constrict, and his hands balled up in her wild mane of hair. Just as she was preparing herself for him to finish, he pulled her head away from him. 

“That’s enough,” he panted. 

Hermione wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and looked up at him with a furrowed brow. 

“Was I not doing it properly?” She worried aloud. 

Severus hooked his hands under her arms, and lifted her back to her feet. Pure lust was in his eyes. 

“You were doing it more than properly,” he told her with a chuckle. “However, I would much rather come inside of you, than in your mouth,” he added with a smirk. 

Hermione blushed at his words. A quiet, “Oh,” was all she managed to say. She never imagined that he had the potential to say the things he had said that evening. 

“But first.” Severus took his wand and waved it in front of himself, and then in front of her. 

“A contraceptive spell?” Hermione guessed. 

“Obviously,” he replied with a quirked eyebrow. 

With another flick of his wand, two wooden posts sprang up from the back corners of his desk. Hermione looked from them and back at Severus with questions in her eyes. 

“Lie back, between the posts, and place your hands above your head,” he ordered. 

Hermione nodded, and made a move to pull down her skirt. 

“Leave it,” he said when she started to tug. 

Her mouth curled up into a grin as butterflies formed in her stomach. “Alright,” she agreed, then sat up on the edge of the desk, before laying back and doing as he requested. 

Severus stood over her, just watching her for a moment. There was triumph in his eyes, and another emotion just simmering beneath the surface that she couldn’t quite detect. 

She worried briefly when she saw him point his wand at her, but when the black ropes which came from it, tied each of her wrists to the posts she laid between, she understood what he was doing. And it excited her more than anything else that had happened thus far. 

Hermione had always been the type of person who had to be in control of every last detail in her life. She’d even controlled time itself at one point. But to give that control over, to submit entirely… well she rather fancied the idea. 

Severus placed his wand aside, walked forward and grabbed her by the ankles, where he pulled her towards him so that she was just hanging off the edge of the desk. He looked deep into her eyes, and for a second she thought she saw a frown touch his lips. 

“You’re completely sure about this?” he asked with a hint of worry in his tone. 

Hermione curled her leg around him, and pulled him closer to her. 

“Yes,” she answered firmly. 

A genuine smile broke out on his face, before his eyes darkened. He took himself in his hand, and rubbed his tip along her fold, lingering at her nub, before traveling back to her opening. Hermione braced herself, then gently he entered her. 

It had been quite a while since the last time she’d had intercourse, and she felt the long forgotten initial pain of feeling so full. There was a slight pinch as he eased his way almost completely out of her, and back in just as slowly. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, when she hissed in mild discomfort. 

Hermione nodded. “I’ll be fine. Just keep going.” 

He continued with measured thrusts, while her body stretched to adjust to his. And after a minute or so all the pain had subsided. She began lifting her hips to match his movements, trying to get him deeper inside of her. 

As he realized what she was doing, Severus hooked his arms under her knees, and raised her legs higher in the air, allowing himself more access to her. The shift in position was perfect, and when he slammed into her, Hermione bit her lip as she moaned loudly. 

“More?” he grunted, punctuated with a firm thrust. 

Hermione cried out. “Yes!” 

Severus fucked her relentlessly, and Hermione could not remember the last time she had felt such raw pleasure. Her lower abdomen tightened as she felt the beginnings of her climax. When she wrapped her legs around him, squeezing him as tightly as she could, Severus took his arm from under her knee, and reached down between them where he pressed her clit with his thumb. 

The added sensation caused her vision to become blurry, and she screamed out so loudly, a small part of her was amazed no one had bursted in on them. 

Her entire body started to shake, and her legs stiffened. She felt her orgasm building inside of her, and when he started circling his thumb it pushed her over; she shouted out his name as she came. 

Severus stopped when she was finished, reached for his wand and released the bindings from her arms. He pulled her up, kissed her hungrily, and pulled her down from the desk. 

“Turn around,” he growled. 

Immediately she obliged, and when she did, he pushed her so that she was bent over the side of the desk. 

Her grabbed a fistful of her hair in his hand, and pulled her head up, where he leaned forward next to her ear. 

“I know it was you,” he whispered. 

Hermione didn’t even have time to register what he said, since he released her so quickly, then slammed into her from behind. 

Another first for her. She’d never been taken in that way before. But the position had him filling her more deeply, and it was overpowering. It felt better than she could have ever imagined, even teetering on painful. 

Severus took both of her breasts, while he pinched and twisted both nipples. Hermione was nothing but sensation in that moment. She couldn’t think, she couldn’t hear, her voice was so raw she couldn’t even shout out. All she could do in that moment was _feel_. 

Another earth shattering orgasm rocked through her entire body, and as she came once more, she felt him constricting inside of her. 

“Oh, Hermione!” he yelled out, before she felt the sudden rush of heat inside of her. 

He slumped over onto her back when he had finished, and peppered soft kisses down her spine. Neither of them moved for several moments, both breathing heavily. 

Suddenly, Hermione remembered what he had said to her. 

“Severus?” she asked quietly, as he pulled out from inside her, and helped her stand upright.  
She turned around and raised her head to look at him better. That undetectable emotion was there in his expression again. 

“What — what did you mean before?” She’d had an idea, but she wanted to hear him say it. “When you said you knew it was me?” 

How could he have known, though? She was exceptionally careful to make sure that _nobody_ had known. 

Again Severus cupped her cheek. Hermione leaned into his touch. 

He lowered his head and softly placed his lips on hers, barely pulling back when he said, “It was you who had come back for me. Taken me from the Shrieking Shack.” 

Hermione pressed her forehead against his. _How did he know?_ “Yes,” she breathed out. 

“You… But why?” He asked, as he linked their fingers together. 

Hermione had given that a lot of thought over the last several months. Why indeed? 

“Because, Severus, you —“ she swallowed. “You didn’t deserve to be left there alone. I couldn’t handle the thought of you being left there alone,” she said. 

She removed her hands from his hold, and turned away, crossing her arms around her torso. 

“You’d done _so much_ to help us. More than any of us had known. I — I thought you were _dead_. And I just couldn’t leave your body. It wouldn’t have been right.” 

She jumped slightly when Severus’ arms wrapped around her from behind. 

“Was that the only reason?” he asked. 

It wasn’t. She didn’t realize it wasn’t until perhaps a month prior. “No,” she whispered with a shake of her head. 

“Then _why?_ ” he asked again, as he nuzzled his nose into her hair. 

Hermione’s heart thumped wildly in her chest, as she debated on admitting the truth. 

“Because…” she faltered. He brushed her hair from her right shoulder, and leaned down to kiss her collarbone. 

“Why, Hermione?” he whispered into her ear. 

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. 

“I came back, because, well… because I care for you, Severus,” she admitted. 

All of those nights that she thought of him alone in her bed, the days she’d spent daydreaming of him in her lessons, the overwhelming impulse to go back for him when she thought he had died, and the compulsion she felt as he recovered to check in on his progress. All of it led her to the conclusion that she had developed genuine feelings for the man holding her in his arms. 

Severus spun her around to face him, with warmth radiating from his eyes. 

“I’ve been waiting for the right moment to properly thank you,” he said. A smirk played on his lips. 

Hermione let out a strained laugh. First they had sex, now he was joking with her? What a bizarre evening it had turned out to be. 

“I’ll consider myself properly thanked then,” she said through her laughter. 

Still, she was nervous. He hadn’t responded to her declaration of her feelings for him. 

“Stop looking so anxious, Hermione,” he said in response to the expression on her face. 

She thought she’d been hiding it better than she apparently was. 

He bent down to give her a chaste kiss. 

“I would say, after tonight, that it is obvious I care for you as well,” he admitted to her. She immediately broke out into a smile. “I had planned to control myself until after your exams. However, when I had seen your little _daydream_ this afternoon, I could not contain myself any longer.” His voice was deep and rich again. She tried to suppress a shudder. 

“I’m happy you couldn’t,” she told him softly.

Severus snorted, then tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. 

“Be that as it may, I suggest we do not continue any private _meetings_ , until after you have officially left the school.” 

Hermione frowned. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, he was right. If they had been caught… 

“Wait,” she said suddenly. “What if someone heard us?” she began to panic, thinking of being expelled right before she was finally finished. He would be sacked for sure. It would be all over _The Prophet!_

Severus rolled his eyes as he chuckled. 

“I believe you’re familiar with _Muffliato_ ,” he said. 

Hermione nodded. _Of course_ , she thought, as her panic melted. She felt foolish for not thinking of that. 

“What now then?” she asked. Her brow creased as she felt a little insecure about their possible future. 

Severus trailed the back of his hand along her cheekbone. “Now, for the following two weeks, I will have the pleasure of watching you become even more so distracted during your lessons.”

She bit her lip and glanced back at his desk. Her face heated. 

“And then…” he trailed off. 

Hermione felt a bit better seeing that he was obviously insecure as well. 

“And then we pick up where we left off,” she finished for him confidently. 

Severus smiled as he nodded. “And then we pick up where we left off,” he repeated. 

He kissed her one last time that evening, before both of them dressed, and Hermione left for her four-poster bed. Ginny waited up, as she promised, and Hermione wished she hadn’t. She was sure she looked a mess. 

“How was your detention?” Ginny asked, eyeing her in suspicion. 

Hermione didn’t break her stride, as she walked passed Ginny, who was sat on the couch in front of the fireplace, and headed towards the stairs. 

“Rough,” she called over her shoulder, and smiled to herself at her joke. “I’m exhausted, Ginny. We’ll talk in the morning.” 

She didn’t wait for a response, and hurried into her room and where she quickly tucked herself into bed. She closed the hangings around her, and could not keep the smile from her face. For the first time in her life, she’d actually been looking forward to the end of a term.

**Author's Note:**

> I need to thank both toomanycurls and AlexisBlack for looking this over for me. And also Rumples for threatening my life when I was considering deleting this lol. I heart all of you!


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